Papa Don't Preach
by Vanillasiren
Summary: Summary: Ever wonder how Henry Sr. felt about his daughter sneaking off to learn magic from Rumplestiltskin? Well I did! So here's my take on it.


Papa Don't Preach

Summary: Ever wonder how Henry Sr. felt about his daughter sneaking off to learn magic from Rumplestiltskin? Well I did! So here's my take on it.

Regina lives for days like these.

It's become a familiar ritual. She divests herself of light, and of softness. No pale flimsy silks or girlish, virginal whites for her.

Not today.

For her lessons, she dresses all in black, in leather. If there is any color, it is bold, and dark. Red she prefers, red as apples, red as blood, but sometimes a bruise-colored purple is good too. It's amazing how such a simple thing as changing her wardrobe can make her feel so … excited. Powerful. _Alive_.

Like he does.

Like magic does. Magic she means. Magic is what makes her feel this way.

Already, as she walks towards where her favorite horse is stabled, she can feel the change, the thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins, and her walk becomes more a strut. She thinks of the magic she will learn, the wickedness she will do, and of … _other_ things, and her lips curve a dangerous smile, and she can hardly hold back a mad cackle of glee.

She gets her horse ready, and she is just about to saddle him when she is interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

"Regina?"

"Daddy!" She turns. "You startled me! What are you doing here?" He frowns.

"Be grateful I'm not Snow White, or even worse, the king. Can you imagine what would happen if they saw you dressed …" He eyes her outfit disapprovingly, the way her mother used to do. "Like this?"

Regina shrugs. "If they saw me, I'd just cast an enchantment on them to make them forget. I can do that now, you know."

"Can you?"

Regna grins at him. "Daddy, I'm getting more powerful every day!"

He doesn't look pleased. "But at what cost? This … Rumplestiltskin … he doesn't do anything for free. Look at what happened to your mother –"

"My mother?" Regina's lips curl in a sneer. "Please, he barely scratched the surface of magic with her. He taught her a few tricks, that's all. I have a _far_ greater potential than she ever did."

"Is that what he told you, Regina?"

"It is. What of it?" When her father is silent, she looks wounded. "You don't think it's true. You don't think I could be –"

He walks over to her and takes her hands in his own. "Darling, I think you are magnificent, you know that. Which is why I know you are _smarter_ than you are acting right now. Hasn't it occurred to you that he's just telling you what you want to hear?"

He sees the doubt flicker across her face, and she looks away. "No. He … he wouldn't do that, he … listen daddy, I'm learning magic. That's all that matters."

"Is that_ all_ you're doing with him, Regina?"

He's not usually so bold, or direct, but there it is. He's blurted out the question before he can stop himself.

And when his daughter's face flushes crimson, he gets a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"I … I don't know what you mean, Daddy …" she stammers unconvincingly.

_Oh gods, it's true._

He'd suspected for some time, but he didn't want to believe it. The way she acts when she's going to see him, and the way she acts when she comes back … he kept telling himself it was just the thrill of learning magic, just the enjoyment of her freedom, nothing more, but now, looking at her, he knows.

That twisted little imp is _having_ his daughter.

"Regina …"

She pulls her hands away from his. "I have to be going now. I don't want to be late for …" she stops herself, and blushes redder. "I'll be back later. Don't worry."

"You can't go!" He snaps.

Regina stares at him, surprised by his uncharacteristic show of backbone. After a moment, her lips curl into a sneer.

"Can't?" She hisses at him. "Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?"

"I'm your father –"

"Yes, and I'm your daughter. But I'm not just your daughter. I am also your queen. And I don't take orders. From _anyone_."

There is a coldness in her eyes which makes him shiver. But even so, he reaches for her.

"Regina, my dearest, you must listen to me –"

"Oh for gods' sake, Daddy!" She pushes his hand away. "You're picking _now_ to stand up to someone? Why couldn't you have done it years ago, when I actually wanted you to? When I _needed_ you to?"

"Regina, please –"

"No." She turns from him, hiding her tears, and saddles her horse. He backs away, and before she rides out of the stables, she looks down at him.

"Maybe if you had stood up to Mother, my Daniel wouldn't have died."

Her eyes are full of pain, and her words seem to pierce him through the heart. There is nothing he can say.

After a long moment, she urges her horse to a gallop, and rides away from him, towards Rumplestiltskin.

When she returns, many hours later, she seeks him out. She's dressed much more demurely now, in something that makes her look like the innocent young woman he remembers, before the cruelties of life started to jade her. She lays a hand on his shoulder.

"Daddy, I'm sorry we quarreled earlier. What I said … it was so awful of me. What happened to Daniel was never your fault. It was Snow's, always Snow's. Will you forgive me?"

He pats her hand. "Dearest, of course I will. But really, there's nothing to forgive. You were right, I should have –"

"Shh. Let's speak no more of this."

"Regina, it's only that I'm _worried_ about you. I just … I just don't want to see you get your heart broken all over again."

She stiffens. "What makes you think my heart has anything to do with it?"

"I just –"

"_Daniel_ was my one true love, daddy. You know that." Before he can say anything else, she presses a kiss to his cheek. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

As Regina slips into her bed, she reflects on her father's unusual behavior. In the past, it was always her mother lecturing her on what she should and shouldn't do. So she couldn't help but bristle when her father tried to preach to her, despite how well-meaning he was.

Besides which, he was wrong. About … well, about a great many things.

Her true love is forever lost to her. But there is something … _someone_ … that's makes her feel … _good_, damn it, and she's not giving that up. No matter what her father says.

*Author's Note: This fic is dedicated to **highlyillogical**, who suggested a story written from Henry Sr.'s perspective. This is as close as I could get.


End file.
